The Legacy (The Darkness Within Saga Book 1)

by JD Franx

  “Good point,” Kanova said. “The threat had to be significantly more than the Northmen could handle... Damn, that’s a hell of a thought.” Kasik frowned, bowing his agreement.

  “So,” began Brother Donis, working his way around a heaping plate of fruits and confections before him. “The first part of the prophecy has happened. With the Black Sun likely to come... When, Giddeon? The monks at the Orrery said two weeks?” Earning a nod from the ArchWizard, Donis continued uninterrupted. “I’d say it’s safe to declare an era of prophecy, wouldn’t you, old friend?” He bit into a gigantic mango grown in the King’s private orchard. Juice ran down his chin, adding new stains to the front of his robe, but he never stopped smiling. Donis Kincaid had been born for this moment and was enjoying every single minute of it.

  “I agree,” the ArchWizard replied. “We must keep the child alive when it is born, but we still have to deal with the threat it poses. Jasala Vyshaan reached the height of her power quickly, and she nearly destroyed Talohna in the process. We cannot allow it to happen again.”

  King Bale nodded, frowning. “Her death-spell ripped Talohna apart. Great tracts of land disappeared under the in-rushing tsunamis. Continents shifted and both the Black Kasym and the Forbidden Lands were created in their wake. The land of the Ancient’s has been cut off by the Kasym for five thousand years now. No one north of the Kasym survived as far as we know. It’s a miracle that the rest of Talohna survived.”

  “Even magic hasn’t been the same since,” added the Magistrate. “You told us so years ago, Giddeon. Dead spells, backfired rituals… The power of the earth itself must have been damaged by that insane creature.”

  “You’re exactly right, Magistrate,” said Giddeon. “I felt it when I was there in my vision this time. Like the soul of the earth, perhaps even the goddesses Mylla and Inara were injured in the Cataclysm. I can’t say for sure.”

  “Lovely place, the Forsaken Lands,” Brother Donis mused sarcastically. “The Elvehn Guard from Ta’Ceryss still patrol the DeadZone on its southern border, don’t they, Oripar?”

  Quiet until this point, the Elvehn scholar answered, his voice calm, as always. “They do. Razorwings, the odd darga pack, and occasionally things much worse still find their way out at times and must be dealt with. Most eager young Elvehn in their late teens will volunteer to spend time on the patrol squads. Excitement and adventure of youth, you know. I believe they’re based out of Albynor now, though Ellewen’s Keep usually has two augmented sections of fifty fighters and a few wizards.”

  Shaking her head, Saleece took a seat at the table, exhaustion beginning to catch up with her. Mature beyond her years, others often forgot the girl was only fourteen. “Such ruin caused by one woman. The world has been altered forever because of her. So many lives lost, and so much of Talohna’s history vanished with them.”

  “That is why everyone throughout Talohna keeps a diary, child,” replied Brother Donis, serious for a change. “From the King himself, down to the lowliest street beggar. We all must do our part to see that it never happens again. It’s why grimoires and journals are enchanted with preservation weaves and handed out free of charge. When they are filled and turned in, all are read and catalogued. It is one small good that came out of the disaster.”

  Finally, the King turned to Giddeon and asked the question he’d been fearing most. “So, ArchWizard, how are we supposed to prevent that disaster from happening in our time?”

  Giddeon braced himself, answering his King as plainly as he could. “Your Majesty, we have all studied the writings. It is a mainline prophecy, so we know it will come to pass regardless of what we do. We are all in agreement that if the child is killed, somehow it will return to us here in Talohna.” The King, ever the stalwart monarch, showed no emotion as Giddeon continued. “Its return from death will end the world as we know it. The prophecy states, ‘Bloods’ blackest dawns the light’s last.’ We believe this means exactly what it says: should we choose to kill the child, day will dawn no more.”

  “Well, we sure as hell cannot let it live,” Kanova Bale growled. “The monster will destroy us before it reaches maturity, you know this. I was here when they brought you back after killing the last one Giddeon. You damn near died and she was only nine years old. So what gods-damned options are left?”

  “Anger solves nothing, Uncle,” said the King, lifting a hand. “I doubt we would all be here if they didn’t at least have a possible solution. Giddeon won’t let us down.”

  Giddeon took the opportunity to offer up their idea, desperate as it was. “We do, my King, but none of us offers it lightly. We may not be able to stop the prophecy, but we can nudge of course and save Talohna. We are all convinced that, given the time left before the birth and a bit more help besides the four of us, we can open a dimensional bridge to send the child to another plane of existence. If we can keep the bridge active long enough to find it a good home, it will live and there will be no danger to us here.”

  The King’s face darkened. “I’m sorry, old friend. I cannot and will not send an abomination like that to destroy another world, even to save our own. I can’t, Giddeon. Such a thing would make me no different than the evil we’re fighting against. I won’t do that. May my people someday forgive me, but I won’t.” He was near breaking and Giddeon could see it. It was the first emotion he had shown since the meeting had convened, but it was heart-achingly accurate. Having watched him grow from birth, Giddeon knew the king hadn’t been sleeping as of late, worrying about a solution for many months. Although he was the ArchWizard, Giddeon was also the King’s closest friend; for that reason, he knew he couldn’t stop now.

  “We’ve discussed that, sire, and if we bridge to a plane where there is no magic, no trace of earth-power whatsoever, then the child will pose a hazard to no one. He or she might even lead a good life, however mundane.”

  A hint of hope sparkled in the King’s eyes. “Is this possible? Is there even such a world that exists? One without magic?”

  Giddeon pushed on, knowing this was his only chance to convince the King. “Seeing into another dimension is simple compared to opening a bridge, but we did find one without magic, Your Majesty. My predecessor, the ArchWizardess, Calladia Veht, found it by accident during an experiment. Saleece and I checked before coming here. As best we can tell, there is no trace of magic there. For some reason the earth’s power is nonexistent. We will use a locator spell to find a family desperate for a child, giving him or her the best chance for a happy, mundane life.”

  King Bale sighed. “Very well. It seems we know what we must do. Make what arrangements are necessary. Whomever you need to make this happen, get them here and let us hope for the best. The Knight and I will notify the other Pillars of Rule. Will you need the Wizard’s help, Giddeon?”

  “No, your majesty. The magic used during the initiation ceremony that bound the Pillars to your service would make any magical reactions impossible to predict. Besides, if something were to go wrong, the Wizard’s loyalty, all their loyalty is to you alone. If they see something happen that poses a threat to you or the kingdom, they’ll act. Possibly with disastrous consequences. I’d advise they stay well clear of what we try to do. It’ll be safer.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s move everyone, there is much to do.” With the King’s leave, Giddeon and his colleagues bowed and turned to go.

  “Giddeon,” the King called.

  The ArchWizard and his apprentice turned back to him as the others dispersed. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this. I truly wish there were another option.”

  “As do I, Your Majesty. But it’s better than having to order the execution of a newborn child.” The responsibilities of authority could at times overwhelm lesser men, but Giddeon had never been a lesser man. He knew what would come to pass if they didn’t act. He’d seen it first-hand. However, since the Fae extinction over ten thousand years ago, no one had ever opened a bridge to parallel dimensions and su
rvived. There was much to do, and little time in which to do it.

  On their way out, Giddeon put his arm around Saleece. “Come, girl, let’s go see your mother. It’s been days. It’s just past noon; maybe she’ll have some lunch left.”

  “I’d love to, Father. I miss her. It seems like we’re always in the tower,” Saleece complained.

  It was true, but they had little choice. “I know. But it will soon be over.”

  Even though protocol demanded Saleece call him Master in public, in private they easily returned to their familial feelings. When Saleece had shown up at the city gates all those years ago, Giddeon and his wife, Aravae, had refused to allow anyone else to take her in. The gods had denied them children of their own, and Giddeon knew from the moment he saw her that there was something special about her. Now, she was constantly at his side, learning from him and studying under his tutelage. She was as committed to magic and to helping others as he was.

  Though they both often slept in the small room in the alcove at the top of the tower, Giddeon owned a permanent residence on Nobility Row. Giddeon and Aravae Valyndir, an Elvehn sorceress whom Giddeon had loved from the moment they’d met, had built the large mansion when they’d first married a quarter-century ago. Though a lot of wizards married Elvehn women because their similarly extended lifespans made for a more suitable life together, Giddeon and Aravae’s marriage hadn’t been arranged. Not looking to get married at that time in his life, let alone to an Elvehn woman, Giddeon smirked to himself at the memory of how quickly that had changed once he’d met her. Matters of the heart were just like that.

  Like the Cascade Citadel and most of the other mansions on the Row, his house backed the sheer mountainsides that made up the city’s eastern walls. One of Corynth’s most impressive defences, the mountain range extended fifteen leagues into the Northern Forest in the country of Yusat. Nobility Row was also where political representatives from other countries had their castles, and where most foreign nobles lodged when visiting the Cethosian capital city.

  As he and Saleece walked home, Giddeon reminisced about the past twenty-five years with his wife and the ten they had shared with Saleece. He couldn’t remember ever being happier. But a dark mood settled over his thoughts when he realized that their lives would be changed forever by the coming events. Aravae was pregnant with their first biological child. The baby was due to arrive in less than two weeks—around the same time as the Black Sun.

  Chapter Four

  Dimensional rifts and bridges to other realities are rare. Incredible amounts of power are required just to attempt creating one. We are unaware of any documented successes in the present age. I, along with many others, have spent the past two weeks studying ancient texts and some of the Elvehn Avalath concerned with how the Fae did such things. I believe we now have what we need to do it safely.

  We have no idea how many births may occur during the Black Sun. In an attempt to ensure that my child by Aravae is not among them, Kasik and I travelled to the ruins of the old HellisKor Fort in northeastern Yusat, the last known location of a WraithLord.

  Powerful wizards created the wraith thousands of years ago as a defence against enemy magic users. The wizards used a complex blood sacrifice and the use of a rare artifact we call a binding crystal. When a wraith’s creator dies, or it somehow manages to break free from its master, a WraithLord is formed. Imbued with free will and extremely dangerous, none can control it.

  If it can be killed, though, the binding crystal that helped create it remains behind. The magic used during the ritual, which keeps it alive, stays locked within the artifact and can be used to augment a wizard’s power to a staggering degree. It would give me the power to place Aravae and our child under a stasis spell long enough to survive the threat posed by the Black Sun, so that our child is not born a monster.

  Binding crystals are Talohna’s most sought-after relics, but few would risk a WraithLord encounter for the prize. Like so many others, I underestimated the WraithLord’s power. I had never encountered one of such strength, and if not for Kasik, I would have died within the ruins. We must rely on Lady Lykke’s grace in the hope that luck will be with us and our child is not born during the Black Sun.

  ARCHWIZARD GIDDEON ZIRAKUS’ PERSONAL JOURNAL

  5005 PC

  CORYNTH

  The days passed in a blur as the people Giddeon gathered to help open a successful, stable dimensional rift worked long hours with little rest. Bridges of that magnitude hadn’t succeeded in countless generations, and when they failed, lives were always lost. Giddeon didn’t intend to lose anyone, and had feverishly researched safety measures to ensure that he wouldn’t. They were now ready to cast the spell, needing only to wait for the right child to be born.

  As much as it sickened him, he knew the child would likely turn out to be his and Aravae’s firstborn. Although they had already come to terms with this, a welcome thought it would never be.

  On the chance their baby was not born during the Black Sun or if several births happened during the rays of darkness, all expectant mothers close to birth had been brought to the Cethosian capital city a month ago, and in the Southern Kingdom they were gathered and taken to Avelera City in Ellorya, where the Southern Wizards’ Council would oversee the births.

  DormaSai and the Northmen had not responded to the request to bring all near-due mothers to Avelera City or to Corynth. The High King, having already closed Tyr’s Shield, agreed to honour the kingdom’s wishes. Should any child be born there, Giddeon and Kasik would be allowed through Tyr’s Shield in order to retrieve the child personally. DormaSai was a different matter entirely. Ruled by a sadistic tyrant and practising necromancer, the nation had answered all requests and then demands with a chilly silence; should news of a child being born there during the Black Sun reach Giddeon or Southern Kingdom officials, war would be imminent. Giddeon knew war with DormaSai was close anyway, but a DeathWizard’s power in the hands of King Azmerack would lead to the oppression of all life and a world of roaming undead.

  That was a concern for later, though. He had more important things to deal with now.

  Early morning on the day of the Black Sun, Giddeon finished inscribing the intricate glyph for the dimensional gateway on the polished marble floor of his ritual keep. The same complex glyph had already been completed on the floor of his parlour at the mansion on Nobility Row. Saleece had finished it the night before. He’d not been surprised upon returning home to find that she’d burnt the glyph into the hardwood floor with impeccable precision. She seldom made a mistake; his adopted daughter was fast becoming known as a magical prodigy. Even the Wizards’ Council had taken notice of her advanced abilities. Giddeon stood up to inspect his own work and was relieved to find it satisfactory.

  As he bent to collect his things and head home, Saleece burst through the door down the hall. “Father! Father? Where are you? It’s started—Mother’s in labour! The midwife said it will be fast, two or three hours at the very most...” Her voice caught in her throat as she sobbed. “The sun’s only an hour from black. The baby will be here before it passes.” She looked hopelessly at Giddeon, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her grey velvet robe. More tears poured down her face and fell from her chin.

  Even as his world imploded around him, Giddeon gathered his strength and rushed with her from the tower. The Black Sun would last about four hours, meaning his child would be born connected to the magics of both life and death. Both crua would become a physical part of the baby the moment he or she drew their first breath. With no chance to learn morality and responsibility before forming these bonds, Giddeon’s child would become a monster before his tenth year, unless they acted.

  Passing Kasik as he left the castle, Giddeon barked, “Gather the others. Bring them to my house. Make damn sure they’re prepared. Aravae is in labour, it won’t be long.”

  “At once,” said Kasik. “And, Giddeon? I am sorry.” It was one of the few times the ArchWizard had ever seen such e
motion from the burly Northman.

  “I know, and thank you, Kasik. I’ll see you at the house.” After running home with Saleece at his side and checking on his wife, he left his daughter at Aravae’s side and went to wait for the others. He soon found himself sitting on his front porch staring up at the sun, waiting for the change to begin. Always the ArchWizard, Giddeon was determined to document every single second of what would eventually occur during Talohna’s most feared magical event.

  Less than an hour later, he watched intently as the blazing yellow sun pulsed, expelling a brief, but bright white light. Covering his eyes until it passed, he stared back up as a sinister blackness bloomed in the sun’s centre, rapidly swelling until it swallowed the whole sun. Darkness blacker than the skies of the new moons settled over the city even though it was not yet midday. An aura of pure evil seemed to permeate everything the darkness touched and Giddeon shook his head to dispel the strange feeling. The arrival of Kasik and all those involved with the dimensional rift ceremony helped him to focus on the matter at hand.

  “Thank you all for being here,” he said, rising from the top step. “Kasik, take them to my study so they can prepare. I’ll be with Aravae if you should need anything.”

  “Consider it done.” Kasik bowed as Giddeon entered the mansion. “You heard him everyone, let’s get ready. And no mistakes, we all owe him that much.”

  Giddeon’s son was born three hours later, almost exactly half way through the Black Sun phenomenon. The ArchWizard in him couldn’t help but wonder if it meant anything; four hours of Black Sun and his child arrived at the midway point. Finally managing to push it from his mind, he instead focused on his family and the little amount of time they would spend together. They had two hours before the Black Sun passed and the blessing of a new child became the curse of having to banish the newborn to another dimension. The bridge-spell would have disastrous effects if cast during the Black Sun’s active magic, so Giddeon and his family were grateful for the time they did have before they had to say goodbye to the child they would never know.